


Catching Up

by mshakarios



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Trans Male Character, they should be using protection because dextro/levo but i really don't care, this isn't very good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 10:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15241482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mshakarios/pseuds/mshakarios
Summary: Some bad smut. Read at your own risk, it's randy, poorly-written, and self-indulgent. MShep/Garrus.





	Catching Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is bad. I wrote it in the middle of the night. I really don't give a shit. Warning for bad smut. 
> 
> The only good part of this is spacefaring kissboy friends-to-lovers Em and Garrus trading banter like the snarky dumbshits they are. The rest I'm lukewarm on. 
> 
> Ignore the fact that they should really be using protection because of the bullshit protein difference stuff. I had plans to include a mention of a condom or something, but then I literally just forgot. Whoops. Anyway here take my garbage.

“Nah, it doesn’t look that bad. Really.”

“You’re a great liar.” The words are harsh, but the tone behind them is playful, and the human man smiles in response.

“C’mon, now, why would I lie to you? You’re the only person here I actually trust; worst comes to worst with this whole ‘working with Cerberus’ thing, we’re in this together, babe.”

“Oh, that’ll be great. Two guys, one who was just brought back from the dead and one who just got half his face blown off, versus a dangerous, radical pro-human group with skilled soldiers, top-of-the-line weapons, and bottomless funding?”

“Yeah, you’re right, we _should_ be worried; those odds are getting dangerously close to being even. They almost have a fighting chance.” Emmett grins, giving his friend’s arm a slight nudge with his elbow. “But y’know what? I think we can still take ‘em.” Garrus returns the expression, or at least the turian equivalent, flashing Emmett a row of sharp teeth. 

“Overconfident there, Shepard? You already died and came back once; don’t think it’ll stick the second time, either?”

“I dunno. I’m an investment, after all; I go down, they might just zap me back to life again. Wouldn’t want to lose all that money, right? I’m sure the beard alone cost them billions to reconstruct.” He makes a grand, overdramatic gesture of running a hand through his thick red beard. “Worth every last credit, though.”

One clawed hand reaches up to cup his chin, scratching playfully at the wiry red hair. The touch lingers at his jaw for just a moment too long, and the light-hearted, friendly familiarity of the gesture gives way to something else entirely. Their eyes meet. The room is quiet for a moment, filled only with the buzzing of machinery. 

“Listen, I…I know it’s been a while since we saw each other. For you, at least. It didn’t feel that long to me, being dead and all. But I just wanted to say…” Emmett’s gaze drops to the floor, and he shakes his head as he struggles to wrap words around all the things he is feeling. “I just…I didn’t like the way we left it, Garrus. I mean, with… _that night_ , and…” 

Sharp talons give his jawline a gentle, affectionate stroke, before finally leaving his face, Garrus’s hand dropping to his side awkwardly. 

“Listen, let’s not think about it now. Between the Collectors and Cerberus, we’ve got enough to worry about.”

“I _want_ to think about it, though. Hell, I’ve done nothing but think about it since it happened.” He chuckles nervously, his eyes still intently focused on the floor. “I mean…I know this might be weird to say, and man, it’s alright if it was just a one-time thing to you, I get that, but…” He trails off, but the red flush that spreads across his face implies all that needs to be said. The tension they have both been trying to ignore throughout their first few conversations is unmistakable now, filling the space between them like a cloud of fog. For a moment, he regrets the decision to even bring up the subject in the first place.

Then he is pulled close, claws digging into his shoulder, and soft lips meet hard plate in a frantic, passionate kiss. He is startled for a split second, but leans into the embrace almost instinctively, raising up onto his tiptoes in a futile attempt to lessen their height difference. One hand moves up to touch the hard planes of the other man’s face, his thumb gently stroking along the length of the newly scarred mandible. His tongue slips out of his mouth to glide teasingly along Garrus’s top lip plate, and the turian groans into the kiss, subvocals rumbling in barely-contained desire. The hand on Emmett’s shoulder moves to his waist, holding him securely in place as the kiss deepens and Garrus’s long tongue slips tentatively into his mouth. The question of where their relationship stands seems to be definitively answered, at least for the moment, and the tension in Emmett’s upper body relaxes as his arms wrap loosely around the taller man’s shoulders, soft hands grasping the solid, metallic bulk of an armor-clad carapace. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he vaguely registers how strange and unfamiliar this should be. He is kissing his best friend. The galaxy has gone to hell around him, and this is only the latest in a long string of events that make no goddamn sense. But no matter how strange it feels, there is something so undeniably _right_ about the way Garrus’s claws clutch at his hips, the way hard mouthplates feel against his soft lips and an alien tongue tastes in his mouth, the way both of them lean eagerly into each other like two freezing men desperate for warmth. It seems like every event has been increasingly new and strange ever since Emmett found himself waking up on a Cerberus research vessel, and kissing his best friend is no exception, but this is the first new, strange thing so far that truly feels right. He leans desperately, almost greedily, into the kiss. 

He suddenly realizes that he is being maneuvered around, being backed away from the door and towards one of the large consoles that Garrus seems to work at nonstop. Emmett allows himself to be led, and puts up no resistance as strong hands lift him up and place him semi-comfortably in a sitting position on the edge of the console. He adjusts as well as he can without breaking the kiss, and wraps his legs possessively around the turian’s waist, pulling him in as close as he possibly can. 

Their hands begin to explore each other, Emmett’s soft fingers rubbing along any exposed patch of hide or plate he can find on his heavily armored partner. Garrus is far more lucky; Emmett has always had a fondness for more revealing clothes, and his tight sleeveless shirt and small denim shorts expose a scandalously large amount of soft, freckled skin. Sharp talons gently trace along the base of his neck, the small of his back, the sensitive flesh of his thick, muscular thighs. Emmett moans at the touch, then pulls away slightly, finally breaking the kiss to murmur lustily against the hard plates of Garrus’s mouth. 

“Take me. Right here.”

“Shepard…”

“I know, it’s a stupid idea. I know there’s dozens of people on this fuckin’ deck. I know they’ve probably got security cameras and bugs in every nook and cranny of this room, and I don’t give a shit. I don’t care who hears it or sees it, I want you to fuck me.”

“In the main battery?”

“In the main battery. You know me, don’t act surprised. I’ve got zero goddamn standards when it comes to location, and you should know that by now. I want it. Right here, right now.” His voice is breathy, his words quick and his tone uncharacteristically serious as his legs lock their grip around Garrus’s waist. “ _Please_. I want you. Fuck, Garrus, I _need_ you.” He whines desperately and leans his forehead against the other man’s, the tender gesture made tantalizingly erotic by the deep red flush in his cheeks and the panting urgency of his voice. Garrus’s hands are still on his thighs, and he feels those sharp talons dig into his skin as a dual-toned murmur vibrates softly against his lips.

“I need you, too…fuck, Emmett, I missed you so much.”

“You have me now. I’m all yours, Vakarian. Better make up for lost time, huh? Never know when I’ll die again.”

Hard, sharp mouthplates crush against his lips once again, locking him in a deep, passionate kiss before pulling away again, as claws begin to stroke playfully over the skin of his thighs. 

“That’s not gonna happen. You’ve got me watching your back again now.”

“Mmmmm…just my back? I’ve got a hell of a lot more for you to watch, y’know.” His hands explore Garrus’s damaged armor, rubbing sensual circles against the hard metal protecting his chest. “Might have to get you out of this armor first, though.” He touches awkwardly at several spots that look like they could be fastening points. “Which I…can absolutely do. Without help. Clearly.”

“...You have no idea how to take my armor off, do you?” 

“Why, Garrus! I’m hurt that you’d even say that!” Emmett’s tone is dripping with mock offense. “Of course I know. You just might have to help me a bit. I was dead, y’know. Some of my finer motor skills aren’t _quite_ back to normal yet.”

“Oh, I can see the headline now!” Garrus pulls away, his face taking on an expression that Emmett has learned to recognize as a shameless grin. “Commander Shepard: first human Spectre, hero of the Citadel, recently returned from the dead, can’t figure out his biggest challenge yet: taking off turian armor. Inter-species relations end in disaster.”

Emmett returns his grin.

“Oh, I’ll show you how I handle inter-species relations, Vakarian. C’mere.” 

“Why, so you can paw at my armor for half an hour trying to figure out how it comes off?”

“No. So you can be a good sport and show me how to take it off, because all jokin’ aside we both know I’ve got no damn idea, and then you can hold me down and fuck me raw on this console until I’m screamin’ your name and every last person on this fuckin’ deck knows that their Commander’s gettin’ the pounding of his life.”

Emmett swears he can almost see a twinge of deep blue blush spreading under Garrus’s plates. The turian groans, and his mandibles twitch in desperate, frustrated arousal at his lover’s words.

“Oh, _spirits_ , Shepard...”

“Shhh. No more talk, babe. I need you. Now show me how to get you out of that armor.” 

Garrus nods, and his hands finally leave Emmett’s thighs, coming up to deftly undo fastenings in strategic, well-hidden places that Emmett is doubtful he himself would have been able to find. Piece by piece, the armor falls away, revealing the sharp planes and angles and surprisingly thin silhouette of a naked turian body. Emmett looks him up and down, remembering the last time he saw his friend like this, that night filled with too many drinks and not enough self-control. This time is similar, but distinctly different; it is just the two of them now, no other attractive turian instigating things between them because he “likes to watch.” No more excuses for falling into bed together, no writing off the desire between them as just a consequence of the drinks and the nighttime atmosphere and their eagerness to please some third party. They are doing this now because they want each other, plain and simple. There is no use in denying it anymore. 

“Like what you see?” Garrus drawls once he is completely undressed, his tone dripping with a mixture of desperate arousal and unsure awkwardness as Emmett’s gaze sweeps over him lustily. “I, uh…know I’m still a little scarred up, in places. A rocket to the face will do that. Hope you don’t mind men with scars.”

“You’ve got nothin’ to worry about. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” The awed, almost worshipful sincerity in Emmett’s voice surprises even himself, and he flushes scarlet, looking down and turning his attention to his own clothing. Years of casual sex with strange men in ill-advised places have made him a master of removing his clothes as quickly as possible; the tight black tank and denim shorts are lying in a crumpled pile on the floor in record time, leaving only his underwear, that dumb pair of bright green boxer briefs with dogs wearing sunglasses all over them. Emmett wishes he had known in advance that this was going to happen; he would have worn a less embarrassing pair of underwear. But within seconds they join the crumpled pile of clothing, and he decides it doesn’t really matter. Besides, he reminds himself, it’s _Garrus_ ; he’s seen Emmett at his most embarrassing. He recalls barreling up and down sheer cliff faces in the Mako, loudly singing along to two-hundred-year-old pop music, Garrus and Tali both hanging on for dear life in the backseat while serving as a captive audience to his terrible rendition of Olivia Newton-John’s “Physical.” Compared to that, this is nothing. Hell, this isn’t even the most embarrassing pair of underwear Garrus has seen him in. He has nothing to be nervous about; this is his best friend.

He pulls Garrus into another kiss, and his hands begin to hungrily explore the hard plates and leathery skin of the other man’s body. Garrus responds in kind, sharp claws roaming lightly over tender, sensitive skin, stroking freckled shoulders and muscular arms and the two crescent-shaped scars fading beneath coarse chest hair. Emmett is suddenly acutely aware of how wet he is, and how hard and swollen the small member above his entrance has become. He leans back on the console, pulling Garrus forward until he is on top of Emmett, pinning the human down against the machinery, both still kissing each other passionately. One soft hand reaches down, blindly searching until it gently grasps a thick, ridged cock. Garrus lets out a loud groan at the contact, and the sound vibrates against Emmett’s lips. Emmett breaks the kiss finally, leaning back on the console and looking down at the alien cock in his hand. It is long and thick, the entire length of the ridged shaft swollen with deep blue blood from the base to the gently tapered tip. He gives it a slow, experimental pump, enjoying the desperate, keening whine it earns him. 

“Mmmmm…yeah, you like that?” He runs his thumb over the tip, spreading some of the brightly colored precum down the shaft. Garrus shudders above him, sharp hips bucking slightly into his touch.

“Nnnghh…”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” His tone is light and teasing, trying not to show any sign of his own desperate arousal. He suddenly realizes that his legs are spread wide, not from any active choice but from pure subconscious need, and he can’t help but buck his hips up, rubbing his small cock and wet hole against the ridges of the other man’s cock and letting out a soft whine of his own. Garrus reaches down and takes hold of one of Emmett’s thighs, pinning it down against the console, keeping the human’s muscular legs spread as he lines himself up with his entrance. Considering how much fumbling they went through on that first night, Emmett finds himself honestly surprised at how smoothly this attempt is going. He is about to say something to that effect, but then Garrus slides into him, and suddenly everything else is unimportant. 

Emmett groans as the thick cock fills him up, its ridges rubbing deliciously against his inner walls. He clenches tightly, trying to enjoy more of the feeling, and Garrus hisses with pleasure, rocking his hips forward and burying himself to the hilt inside him. After a moment of adjusting, he slowly begins to thrust, building up a rhythm as he slides into the human’s wet heat again and again, letting out little moans and growls with every roll of his hips. Emmett leans back, biting his lip and tilting his head back against the console. 

“Nnnghhh…that all you got, babe?” He asks teasingly, green eyes glazed over with pleasure as a tiny crooked smile quirks his lips. Garrus looks down at him for a moment, then seems to make a decision, pulling out suddenly and standing back up. Emmett looks up, confused. “What? Somethin’ wrong? It was just some dirty talk, if you want me to stop or make it less rude, just ask, I’m, uh…totally cool with that.”

“No, just…turn over for me.”

Emmett’s eyes light up with understanding, and he grins up at his lover for a second before rolling over onto his stomach, bent facedown over the console. Garrus gets into position behind him and slides in once again, and both men groan loudly at the feeling. 

Emmett feels sharp claws dig into his hips as Garrus builds up a quick, steady rhythm, letting out a loud, dual-toned pant with each thrust. The pain is deliciously good, and he moans deeply against the surface of the console. Through the haze of pleasure, Garrus seems to suddenly realize what his claws are doing, and he lets go of Emmett’s hips, the tone of his voice noticeably sheepish through his rhythmic gasps of pleasure.

“Sorry, Shepard. Got carried away.”

Emmett pushes back against him, one hand reaching back to fumble for one of Garrus’s taloned hands, taking hold of it and placing it back on his hip.

“Nnnngh, no, don’t stop…I love it…please don’t stop…”

He nods, and those claws are digging into Emmett’s hips again, using the leverage to fuck him harder and faster. With this new angle, he seems to hit a specific spot that humans seem to like, judging by the way Emmett suddenly cries out and convulses violently beneath him.

“Ohh, fuck, _there_! R-Right there…yeah, right there…that’s it…please, _God_ , hit that fuckin’ spot again…”

Tightening his grip, Garrus tries his best to find that spot and concentrate on it as much as possible, trying to replicate the exact same angle with each thrust. He assumes he is doing something right; Emmett whines and shakes, his hips pushing back against Garrus’s thrusts, and his hole clenches tightly around him. 

“Think I found it, huh?” He murmurs playfully.

“O-Ohh, God, _yes_ …more…” 

He obliges, concentrating on that sweet spot even longer, ramming into it as his thrusts grow quicker and more forceful, enjoying the needy shudders of pleasure that rack Emmett’s body, and the tight clenching of the human’s inner walls around his cock. After several more minutes, he can already feel his knot starting to form; he knows he won’t last much longer. He bears down on that spot, trying to push Emmett to the edge with him. 

“Yeah…that’s right…come for me…” He manages to pant out, remembering how Emmett loved hearing him say it that first night. “Come for me, Em…”

Emmett’s hand moves down to his own neglected member, rubbing and stroking himself closer to climax as the thick cock inside him pounds against his sweet spot. After another couple of minutes, his head tilts back and he lets out another deep, needy moan, and Garrus can’t help but move one hand up to grip a fistful of red hair, pulling it perhaps harder than necessary in the throes of his pleasure. Emmett yelps loudly, starting to beg and stammer again. 

“Fuck! Don’t stop…don’t stop…hurt me…God, yes, just like that…just like that, Garrus, _please_ , God, don’t stop!” The hand rubbing his cock moves faster, and Garrus keeps up his pace for a little while longer, before Emmett suddenly throws his head back and lets out a loud, shaky whine, his back arching and his entire body tensing for one long moment before relaxing limply against the console. He pants loudly, and Garrus continues to thrust into him, trying to reach his own climax. His knot is thick and bulging now, keeping him securely locked inside his lover, and after a couple more quick short thrusts he spills into Emmett with one final loud moan, one hand still gripping his hair and the other digging its claws into his hip. His hips buck slightly as he comes down from his orgasm, his thick knot twitching inside the human. He exhales loudly and relaxes onto the other man, still buried deep inside him, the hand in his hair releasing its grip and starting to stroke gently at the short red curls. 

“Nnnngh. Fuck. That was…that was so goddamn good.” Emmett groans from beneath him, and Garrus can still feel the human man’s warm entrance clenching and unclenching around his knot. 

“It was.” He leans against Emmett, holding him close. “I…I missed you, Shepard.”

“Mmmm. Missed you, too. But I’m back now, and lemme tell you, I’m gonna try my level best not to die this time. For you. So you don’t go out and do any more vigilante shit that almost gets you killed. Face it, I’m officially the responsible one in this friendship, Garrus, as fuckin’ horrifying as that is. You need me here.”

“Yeah.” He leans down, nuzzling his faceplates protectively against the back of Emmett’s neck, feeling the warmth of the human’s body against his own. “You’re right. I do.”


End file.
